Crayons are blistering my hands as theydrip like skewed candles ontoalready scalded images that Ispent so long creating;I should have know better than toplay with fire, but the match heads weresuch an enticing shade of crimson thatbegged me to strike them on the paperand create fire in two dimensions,but I overlooked the rules.

So now I'm bleeding wax over theground out, labored nightmare renderingsthat were so simply scarred away,and the crayons are melding with my skinto brand neon handprints into my soul.

The author would like to thank you for your continued support. Your review has been posted.